Yet, as Nan leaped in with a cry and caught the falling child in her arms, a horrible thing happened.
The writhing, twisting body of the already dead snake coiled around her ankle and for that awful moment Nan was not at all sure but the poisonous creature had bitten her!
She staggered out of the hut with the child in her arms, and there fell weakly to the ground. Professor Krenner had been watching her from the car window, wondering at her recent actions. Now he leaped up and rushed out of the car. Several of the train crew came running to the spot, too, but it was the odd instructor who reached the fallen girl first, with the sobbing child beside her.
“Snake! snake!” was all the little one could gasp at first.
A brakeman ventured into the hut and kicked out the writhing body of the rattlesnake.
“Great heavens! the girl’s been bitten!” cried one man.
“And she saved the kid from it,” declared another.
“It can’t be,” said Professor Krenner, firmly. “You’re not bitten, are you?” he asked Nan.
“Oh! I—I—thought I was,” gasped the girl. Then she began to laugh hysterically. “But if I was the snake was dead first.”
“That would not be impossible,” murmured the professor.